


Like a Far Off Memory

by Pandasushiroll



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Western, Badass Rey, Bounty Hunters, F/M, IN SPACE!, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Protective Kylo Ren, Rey Needs A Hug, Scavenger Rey (Star Wars), Young Rey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 06:25:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19167631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandasushiroll/pseuds/Pandasushiroll
Summary: The first time he saw her had been in a photograph. He'd thought nothing of it. But the girl in the photo would change his life in more ways than Kylo Ren could imagine.In which Kylo Ren, a gunslinger for hire, gets swept up into an adventure by Rey, a scavenging orphan, and accidentally falls in love with her along the way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hahhhhh. So it has definitely been awhile. Welcome to my shenanigans! I've been really wanting to write something for this pairing for awhile but could never get anything really going. Finally I cobbled together something that I believe is cohesive enough to act as a first chapter!
> 
> Stay tuned for western themes, a sassy heroine, and a grumpy gunslinger!

The first time he laid eyes on her he could feel that his life had changed. Though at the time, it hadn’t fully sunk in. He’d thought of it as nothing more than a passing fantasy, the kind of thing that burns itself out quickly. 

He’d seen her eyes first.

She was staring solemnly into the lens of a camera. Her eyes were a soft brown (from what he could tell), but had harshness that came from an oppressive life. The photograph was old. Faded, with browning edges that were beginning to curl. Her face was young and round, clearly a few years out from adulthood. Despite the dark smudges under her eyes she looked refreshed. Borderline amused. 

Ren lifted the photo higher, inspecting the lines of her face. They painted the portrait of someone who spent a lot of time outside in the heat, digging through the dirt. Her look screamed  _ Scavenger.  _  The longer he looked at the photo the more he got the sense that she was a familiar figure. She was attached to some thread in the intricate mesh of people he'd met in his life. He’d seen her face before. From somewhere long ago. 

Considering how young she looked though, it couldn’t have been that long ago. In the present she could be fully grown. Or dead. Either way, as much as the mystery tickled his sense of curiosity, he resolved in the moment to let it go. It was unlikely that she was still alive. And if she were, surely there would have been more photographs. 

He tried to dissuade himself, but was unable to pull his eyes away. Her hair probably wasn’t as dark as it looked. She had freckles. A ponytail. A smirk tucked in the corner of her mouth.

_ Mischievous.  _

Clearly, he wasn’t getting any less interested in this girl or what had become of her. After this job he’d have to consider investigating this further. 

His client seemed unnerved by his interest. “That’s…that’s nothing.” The man blubbered, swiping the photograph with the sort of desperation that indicated obsession. 

“Is that so?” Ren made no attempt to keep the skepticism from his voice. 

Unkar Plutt was something of a megalomaniac who came to power through a series of fortunate events. He was in the right place at the right time and knew how to take advantage. He reminded Ren of a deformed fish that was severely lacking a backbone. He detested taking jobs from these sort of creatures, but at the end of the day he liked the money they were willing to throw at a problem. Ren didn’t want to spend more time breathing the same air as this creature than he had to. 

“So, what’s the job?”

///

Predictably, Plutt was a creature of little imagination. The only fantasies he could conjure up revolved around delusions of grandeur and his own pleasure. He had claimed the girl was of little importance, but Ren sensed there was more to her and her involvement with the creature. They’d obviously known each other. Or at least, Plutt had known about her from a considerably young age. Whether it was from afar was unclear. He did seem like the type to latch onto something beautiful from far away. Like one of those men who went to look at animals in cages, behind dirty windows. Plutt seemed like the type to watch magnificent creatures pace back and forth from the stress of being enclosed in such a small and poorly produced environment. 

It pierced something deep within Ren. A pool of anger and madness that might boil over any day now. His handle on it was becoming lax, and it was becoming more and more apparent in his work as of late. Sometimes items were returned damaged, sometimes people were returned with a bullet hole in their leg. Sometimes shit happened and he brought back nothing at all.

If nothing else, he was an extreme solution. The last resort in a crisis situation. The cull when all else failed.

As far as he could tell no one had had any real complaints about his methods. Most of his clientele knew what they were getting into. He only got the occasional gasp or scowl. Judgement was nothing new. It just changed faces.  

It wasn’t the girl that was important, but the property she had stolen. A white and orange droid. A BB unit. Apparently valuable enough for Plutt to sink his hands even deeper into the underworld. 

There was a time--before he had become Kylo Ren--when he would have been ashamed to know his name was synonymous with the black market. But these days if it got him business he didn't care whose mouth his name came out of or how they spoke about him.

He found himself smiling at the growth of his own depravity, as he brought the old flask to his lips. The alcohol burned all the way down his throat, but his smile didn’t fade in the face of the pain. 

///

He has always been good at locating things that have been misplaced or hidden. (The more someone wanted to keep it from being found, the easier it was for Ren to locate it.) Whatever it was, whenever it was lost, Ren has never had trouble locating what needed to be found. This talent extended to people. After all, his technique for finding both was the same. A relentless pursuit and a cold analysis of the facts.

It takes him a little longer to find the droid than he expects, but the delay isn’t enough to elicit any sort of genuine surprise. Some part of him expected to find the droid in a scrap heap, dismantled and sold for parts. Scavengers had a proficiency for machinery. When he finds it rolling around in one piece he knows—he really does—that she will be right by his side. He knows this, and yet the sight of her in person completely overwhelms him.

He sees her through a dirty windshield and is utterly blown away. 

The photograph had done nothing to prepare him for the shape of her in person. Her face was older, with freckles, and lines from both smiling and frowning—ever changing expressions that left their mark. Her mouth is soft, her lips looked dry but still full. She smiles. It’s a blinding, hard won smile. She smiles like she can’t believe her good luck. And her clothes are dusty, basic scraps of clothing strung together loosely to keep the wearer cool in the desert heat. She has boots crusted with dried mud and a Bo staff affixed to her back. Everything about her screams Scavenger. Nature clings to her in the dust on her clothes and the tan color of her skin. She holds herself comfortably despite the intense heat bearing down on her and the droid at her feet. Its round body sways back and forth happily, chirping with excitement. 

The heels of his boots hit the ground heavily. The rest of his weight hits him shortly after. His heels scrape against the dirt, kicking up a small dust cloud as he approaches. She’s lost in whatever conversation she and the droid are having. She doesn’t seem to notice him until he’s a few feet away.

The droid tips her off first, swiveling its head around. It beeps at him alarmingly. He sees her slip her right arm behind her, fingers inching over the staff. 

“That Bo staff won’t help you much against a gun.”

She doesn’t look fazed. In fact, he could swear there was a glimmer in her eye at the notion that he might shoot her before she could draw her staff.

“That’s assuming that I won’t dodge and get to you before you can shoot me.” That smile is back, like she can’t believe her good luck. 

Ren palmed the hilt of the pistol on his left, a familiar itch in his trigger finger. “There’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance, little one.” 

She frowns. 

_ Shit.  _ He hadn’t meant to call her that. The photograph of her was still in his mind. It was stuck to the roof of his head, burning behind his eyelids like a stubborn mold that wouldn’t shake loose. The faded colors were as clear to him now as the ground beneath his feet. He felt as if two versions of her were looking at him. The past version of herself with a more far off, dreamy look, not directly at him but through him. A girl imagining what her life could be like. He could see that in her now in the present version of herself. She was grown and yet just beneath the surface was that same girl wondering what her life would become. With an air of mystery and a sense of freedom. She held herself with the ease of a person who knew they had options. 

Perhaps that is where this arrogance found its roots. She was giving this newly found freedom more power than she should. A few days of fresh air did not equate freedom. 

He relaxed, exhaling slowly. This girl was fierce—that was plain as day. But she was foolish if she thought a Bo staff would be effective on a gunslinger who was well out of her reach. 

She relaxed with him, matching his breathing without seeming to notice. Ren saw the moment she began assuming the threat had passed. He drew on her then. 

To his surprise, she hadn’t been lying about her intention to dodge. She hit the ground faster than he’d expected. He watched the bullet sail over her head for only a few moments before he was forced to step back. She hadn’t just dropped to the ground—she dove. Giving her the extra reach she needed to sweep at his feet. 

The staff nearly caught the edge of his boot. He was just fast enough to hop to the right, out of her line of fire. The second pistol was drawn the moment his feet left the ground. 

She was sprawled out on the dusty floor, with a hand on the ground and the other gripping the staff. Her eyes were pinned to his. She didn’t look angry. Or afraid. 

She looked…like she was having  _ fun.  _

It took him a minute to process the notion. And in that time she’d somehow somersaulted over—he didn’t think anyone could bend like that—and suddenly she was crouching at his feet. The pistol was knocked from his hand and the end of staff was abruptly pressed to the base of his throat.

Kylo Ren couldn’t remember the last time he’d been disarmed. 

The pistol in his left hand was still in his grip. She rose slowly, shifting her grip on the staff to cover his larger hand with her smaller one. Her fingers were so petite. They felt soft even as they closed onto his weapon. Their fingers were now wedged together. He couldn’t pull the trigger with the way she was holding his hand. 

Her knees were bent slightly, so she wasn’t at her full height. Even if she were standing tall she’d still be a whole head smaller than him. They were close. Close enough that he could see the rise and fall of her chest. Her breathing was labored but there was no sense of panic. Her eyes were clear and focused. He told himself that she was near him out of preservation only. And yet he could still feel the heat of excitement stir within him. 

She smelled like the desert air and burnt sugar. She reminded him of the flowers that bloom on the local cacti. 

“Why do you want to kill me?” She asked, her eyes searching his. Maybe she was expecting a straightforward answer. Or maybe she was expecting the world to open up now that she was out from under the thumb of such a cankerous beast. Maybe the world she had pictured in her head was simple and as a result her life would become simpler. Perhaps she had pictured the exact opposite. The way she was looking at him now reminded him of the way his mother had looked at him the first time he’d said he hated his father. She looked at him as if she could see where he was going, and she didn’t like the path he’d chosen.

This girl was searching his face now like she was trying to discern the same thing. Could she see the path he’d chosen by looking into his eyes?

She began to squint.

He could tell she couldn’t see his eyes clearly (though she was putting in a valiant effort), the brim of his hat cast a heavy shadow over most of his face. And the mask he wore obscured most of his features beyond that. At their current distance she could surely see the shape of his face, but eyes were the only things visible beneath the mask. He could tell that she found something she wasn’t expecting. Perhaps she had imagined him ugly or taller. Maybe she expected him to look less human. 

“I don’t.”

Her forehead crinkled. Ren flexed the fingers of his free hand. He loosened his grip on the pistol, moving to holster it. Their fingers stayed close until a good portion of the barrel of the gun was tucked away.

“Then…” Her fingers left his to return to the Bo staff. He immediately missed the touch. “Why did you try to shoot me? Didn’t Plutt send you?” 

Ren nodded, finding it difficult to focus on speaking when she was so close to him. He lifted his now free hand, watched her tense, and chuckled when the staff pressed more firmly to his throat. She kept her eyes locked on his face as his fingers touched her hair. 

She didn’t make any other move to stop him. 

_ Something about this felt familiar.  _

He brushed the hair from her forehead and let his hand drop back to his side. 

By the look on her face, she’d found it as confounding as he had. 

“Well…then. I…don’t understand.”

Neither did he.

“What is it that you want?”

He’d entirely forgotten about the robot until it crashed into one of his shins. It didn’t hurt, but he glowered down at the droid as if it had. “That trashy little droid of yours.”

Despite lacking a face, the orange and white droid managed to look aghast, swiveling around its rounded head indignantly.

The girl hit his shoulder none too gently with the staff. “I won’t let The Blobfish have him! You’ll have to get through me first.”

“Yes, I got the impression you would say something of that nature. But that won’t be much of a problem. You’ve already made several errors.”

Now she looked aghast. “How? I just disarmed you and now you’re completely at my mercy.” 

Ren took a few moments to ask whatever deities may have existed in this galaxy to bless her nativity. “No. You took me by surprise and stopped me from shooting you. Being this close to me puts you at a serious disadvantage.” 

She retracted the staff and moved to strike him again. 

This time he caught her off guard. It only took him forty seconds to throw her to the ground and disarm her by pinning her arms behind her back. He’d shoved her into the dirt—which felt a little excessive, but he’d like to get his point across with minimal resistance.  She began struggling and he was forced to grip her more tightly than he would have liked. She coughed hard enough that a small cloud of dust was kicked up around her face.

“First, the moment you disarmed me you should have kept striking me until I hit the ground. Letting me stay on me feet gave me another chance to draw on you.” He shifted back, letting her sit up. With her back pressed to his chest it was easy to give into the temptation to whisper in her ear. The small wisps of hair there fluttered as he spoke, “If I’d been in a bad mood, I would have shot you in the head.”

She turned her head toward him, but he kept his mouth close to her ear. “Your next mistake was giving me the opportunity to break your wrist by holding my hand.”

He heard her shifting, trying to get her legs more comfortably underneath her. “What else?”

Ren huffed in surprise. The girl shivered. “Would you like me to teach you?” 

He allowed her to look him in the eye once more. Relinquishing his grip on her arms let her turn to face him. “What about Plutt?”

“What about him?”

“You aren’t still planning on taking BB-8 are you?” 

Ren can feel himself smiling. This girl was clearly stubborn. “Of course.”

“Then why would I let you teach me?”

“Aren’t you curious?”

She pressed her lips together, her cheeks puffing up slightly. 

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Rey.”

“Kylo Ren.”

Her forehead crinkles, mouth turning down slightly. “Do I have to say both names every time?”

He chuckles as he hoists her to her feet.  “You can call me whatever you like.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eating with Rey reminds Kylo of why he always ate alone. Their interactions force him to recall more moments from his past that he'd rather forget. Especially those memories revolving around his parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again with some more silly shenanigans!!! We have some bits of back story/exposition. So hooray!!

It’s relatively easy to gain her trust. Despite being on the run she doesn’t seem particularly cautious of other people. Whether they’re human or not. She has an inherent serenity about her. Like the weight of the real world hasn’t set in yet. All he had to do was offer her a meal and promise that (for the time being) he wouldn’t dismantle and/or otherwise harm her droid companion.

Now they’re seated at some hole in the wall restaurant, outside (at Rey’s request) near a pair of creatures who seemed to communicate by clicking melodically at each other. He couldn’t see much of their skin—they were wrapped head to toe in heavy dark fabrics—but from the shape of their bodies he could tell they were far from human. Probably creatures from a different galaxy. He could see their clothes quiver, as if they were liquid being contained by plastic. 

Rey was reading the menu like it was a fascinating novel. Her eyes roving over the pages reminded him of the excitement he felt the first time he'd been in his father's ship. The memory was unbidden. He compartmentalized the feelings of nostalgia as soon as they began creeping out of his heart.

He wasn't sure why, but she looked up at him then. Her face troubled, forehead wrinkled. 

"See anything you like?"

She pressed her lips together for a moment, looking as if she might ask him something. Instead, she let her eyes fall back to the menu which was now laid flat on the table. She poked her index finger down and said thoughtfully, "We should try this."

_ We?  _

She wanted to share something with him? The thought was baffling. 

Kylo had long gotten used to eating alone. Eating  alone narrowed the chances of disappointment. There was little to be concerned about. Someone wasn’t trying to poison his food, or get in his pocket, or gearing up to shoot him under the table. 

The last meal he could remember sharing with someone (that wasn’t a client) was the last time he’d seen his father. His mother hadn’t been a presence in his life for years at that point. He’d left her side at a considerably young age. 

(From what he could recall meals with her were always pristine and quiet anyway. He’d been rambunctious and difficult child--which was difficult for a senator to keep an eye on full time.)  

A series of memories flashed across his mind then. Images of his father at the cantina, elbowing his large shaggy haired companion after they’d just narrowly been blasted out of space. He remembered squealing so hard with laughter that he’d nearly fallen out of his chair. His father had been grinning at him. 

Back in reality, the girl was ordering food from a server who teetered back and forth on a set of tentacles wrapped up with a black apron. She looked at him as she handed the menus off. For a Scavenger she seemed relatively accustomed to ordering food at a halfway decent restaurant. 

As if on cue, she said to him, “Has it been a long time since you’ve eaten with someone else?”

“I don’t usually like to keep company.” He admitted, shifting in his chair to get a better angle on the door. 

Nodding, she folded her hands over one another, and rested her chin on the shelf they created. “It’s been a long time for me too.” Unbidden, she added, “I never ate meals with my family.” 

The mention of family piqued his curiosity. Had she been sold off for parts? Alcohol? Drugs? Hidden away from some great terror? “Do you remember them?”

“No. But I always thought they’d return. I was going to keep waiting for them but…” Her gaze shifted, turning toward the droid that they’d precariously propped up on a chair. It was nerve wracking how easily Kylo forgot about its existence. “I have something more important that I have to take care of now.”

“Let me guess...There’s some perilous journey and the greater good of the galaxy is involved.”  He remembered the acrid smell of the warehouses his mother used to drag him to. They always seemed to be building and working on equipment. The smell used to burn his nose. His mother and her involvement with the rebellion was legendary. It still was. 

Rey tilted her head, her face the perfect picture of interest. “How did you know?”

“I could tell by your little friend. The rebellion favors that model. Especially since they’re cheap--” That comment got him an offended electronic grumble. Its round body shook and gently swayed back and forth, if it were on the ground it might have looked like a child stamping their feet. “--manufactured from Anti-First Order parties.” 

“Anti-First Order parties?” He couldn’t tell if she was truly uninformed or just liked to make him speak. Honestly, he didn’t know why he was telling her all this. He’d removed himself from this war a long time ago. 

Kylo was beginning to wonder if she had some sort of ability to pull things out of him. “I’m only going to offer you a summation. And I’m only going to offer it once.” She nodded responsibly, looking very much like an eager student. 

“The two main parties are the First Order and the Resistance. The First Order wants to bring their version of order the galaxy, and the Resistance--as you might expect--doesn’t share their vision. The problem is that both are extreme solutions. As long as either exists, regardless of who prevails, the universe will never be at peace. The only thing that is certain is that as long as one side exists the other will always rise to oppose it. There will be no true peace until they both die out or are simultaneously destroyed.”

She didn’t say anything at first. 

In fact, she didn’t say anything until their food arrived. Kylo couldn’t begin to understand what the hell she’d ordered. Sections of it were still moving. (The droid hummed with uncertainty at the sight.) But the rest of the plate was colorful, precisely sliced into little pieces that were arranged artfully. He stabbed at a small tentacle that was squirming to see whether or not it was still alive. 

The action made Rey chuckle. 

“I was about to do the same thing. I think they put something in the sauce underneath it to make it move like that.” 

“This is exactly why I don’t keep company.”

“You don’t like to try new things?” She was reaching for a piece of meat that had been arranged in the shape of some sort of flower. 

He reached across the table and smacked her fingers with the end of a spoon. “You have utensils. Use them.”

Withdrawing her fingers she frowned, looking to the droid beside her. It beeped as if it agreed with some silent statement. Then she snatched the silverware off the table in front of her, sulkily unrolling it and stabbing the flower onto her fork without ceremony. “I’m beginning to see why the company stopped showing up.” 

He offered her a sullen shrug of his shoulders. 

They ate the rest of the meal in relative silence. Every now and then she would stab something onto her fork and offer it to him. If it moved he would steadfastly refuse it. If it didn’t move, he would allow her to set it on his plate. It was overall an odd exchange. He wasn’t exactly sure why the hell he was letting a woman he didn’t know put food on his plate. There was something about her eagerness--she was so excited about this food. It almost pained him to ruin it by disappointing her. 

///

It happened without warning. 

He followed her out of the building, behind the droid that kept rolling along at her heels. There were three buns spaced out evenly on the back of her head. He wondered how tightly the buns were secured. Would they fall out if he ran his fingers through her hair? Would it take a firm pull? Or a gentle tug? Was this something she did often? Or did she change her hairstyle every day? Why did this even matter to him?

_ He needed to get a grip.  _

She turned on him abruptly, with an expression he couldn’t read right away. It wasn’t disgust, but it wasn’t a flattered look. It was...somewhere in between. She looked as if she couldn’t discern the feeling either. 

Rey looked like she was about to ask him why he was staring so intently at the back of her head. 

Instead, she said, “You should come with me.” 

His heart began racing, blood was rushing through his head, thundering passed his ears. At first he couldn’t think. He didn’t understand what she wanted from him.Warmth spread through him, heating his palms. In a few more moments they’d begin to sweat. 

Even her companion squawked in surprise. “Come with you? Where?”

“To take him back.” 

_ Back to the Resistance. _

What was left unsaid had him feeling as if ice were running through his veins. The warmth was ripped from him, his palms turning clammy. Everything always brought him back to his past. Could he ever get away? Would the shadows of his father and mother stalk after him forever? It seemed like no matter how far away from them he went, their reach would surpass him. Every new place was tainted by their touch. They were always on somebody’s mind or on someone’s tongue. 

The day his father left him behind flashed in Kylo’s mind. 

“No.” He said, “It’s going back to Plutt.”

She didn’t look particularly disappointed in his response. “I already have a plan to take care of your payment. Afterwards, come with me.” 

“What makes you think I’m worried about the payment?”

She gave him a smile that was much too gentle to be directed at him. “Alright. If you come with me I’ll give you whatever you desire. Sound good?” 

“That’s certainly a grandiose promise, little one.”

_ It’s like he couldn’t stop himself from calling her by nicknames he shouldn’t.  _ His teeth clenched.  

She stiffened, cheeks tinged with pink. As if to recover, she tried to looked stern for a moment, before ultimately exhaling and settling on a neutral expression. “Well, I’m sure I can handle it.” 

In all his life, Kylo Ren could not remember being wanted. There had been no one to ask him to come along. No one to tell him they’d like his company. He’d been dragged in one direction after another against his will. Told to keep up. Told not to get lost. 

Rey extended her hand, reaching for him. He’d never experienced that either. “I really want you to come with me, Kylo.” 

He didn’t reach back for her. He didn’t trust the hand being offered. It was too good to be true. “What’s the plan?”

///

The plan it turned out, was revolutionary. Show up with the droid and rob the man blind. Kylo gave her points for boldness. 

“You need to go first,” She insisted. “The moment he sees me he won’t be able to focus. So go in, get your money, and then I’ll join you.”

When he asked her how she planned on shaking down a man that had his own personal armory and enough hired guns to occupy a small town, she only grinned at him and told him to trust her. Kylo hadn’t trusted anyone since he was ten years old. 

And yet, now he was standing in Plutt’s office with his hand extended and a nervous droid swaying back and forth behind his legs. 

“Was it with the girl?” Plutt tried to sound disinterested, Kylo counted backwards from ten to keep from striking the man down where he stood. 

“Yes.” He said, trying to keep his voice devoid of emotion.

Plutt was hunched over a small steel box, counting out bills to hand over. “What has become of her?”

“Does it matter? You have what you asked for.” 

“I suppose you’re right.” He wheezed out a laugh, leaning forward to hold out the money out to Kylo from across his desk. With the restraint of a saint, Kylo took the money and began counting it. 

“Now--”

Kylo has seen his fair share of shake downs, break ins, and hold ups. He had yet to experience the chaos of a vehicle driving through the wall of a building and opening fire. When the stolen speeder burst through, there were only a few shots, and then he heard the distinct clink of a grenade pin being pulled. 

By reflex, he managed to throw himself far enough away from the immediate area to get to some cover before the blast. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hooray! I'm debating on whether or not I'll do any chapters from Rey's POV...any thoughts?


	3. CHAPTER THREE

When he wakes his back is throbbing with pain. Plutt's office--or what's left of it is hot. Nearly unbearably so, heavy with heat and the stench of smoke and burnt meat.  His head feels heavy, and parts of his skin sting with the burn of flesh that's been scraped raw. His eyes water, forcing him to squint in the low visibility. It's hazy and there's a giant hole where the stolen speeder has torn through the walls. It's not the worst he's felt or the worst he's seen an office look. 

Once he’s standing upright, it doesn’t take long to find the remains of the creature that had hired him. The creature’s chubby fingers still clutch greedily onto a piece of some kind of parchment.  Kylo takes a moment, as he observes this, to press his fists into his back on either side of his spine. He pushes until he feels a distinct series of pops. It helps him relax a little--though the scene of a crime isn’t really the place he should feel the most at ease.

Rey emerges from her commandeered craft in time to see the droid dizzily rolling out from under a table it had been thrown under. “Everyone good?”

She says as if they’d merely hit a bump on an otherwise smooth road. She gets a few quiet chirps from the droid in response, and then an irritated whirr that Kylo assumes might be in reference to her method of entry.

“Well, I had to get him off my back somehow. He’d never have let us leave the planet if he knew I was still alive.”

The curiosity prickles at the back of his neck, but Kylo makes no mention of it. Instead, he opts to wander toward the portion of the office that hasn’t been demolished to see what he can salvage. Rey joins him shortly, her Scavenger instincts no doubt spurning her on. They loot the joint until the stirrings of security and sirens drew near. Kylo was beginning to see why the creature might have taken such an interest, this woman was fascinating.

* * *

He doesn’t remember passing out. From what he can tell he isn’t lying down. It doesn't feel like he's dead. On most days, well, on  _ good  _ days the shakedowns he's been apart of end with a lot less physical destruction and a lot quieter and sudden violence. Destruction is no stranger, it's a companion he doesn't mind keeping around, but death...death is the stalker that continues to plague him into his thirties. He's more familiar with death than most of the faces of family members and past allies. 

There's a soft muttering sound to is right that vaguely sounds like a person. He recognizes the tones of frustration. The person beside him clearly isn’t happy with the current situation.

He’s...well. He can’t tell where the hell he is. 

A series of irritated mechanical beeps came from somewhere far off. Somewhat close but in a different room. He could tell by the reverberation of the beeps.

Rey's blurry face swims into view above him. She’s much closer than he’s ready for her to be. Her scent (earth and sweat and smoke) washes over him as she leans across him to flick a switch. The room he’s in begins to focus. There’s a flurry of lights, buttons, and switches. The view is skewed. Moving is difficult, he’s been secured to the seat, but tilted back. 

“Don’t move yet. The jump will be over soon and then I’ll tend to you.”  

His vision faded to black before he could protest.

* * *

Gentle fingers comb through his hair. The touch is nice. 

The strokes are languid, slow as if they’re tracing every centimeter of hair on his head--there’s no sense of urgency or concern. They continue until his eyes open.  It takes a few moments for the environment to come into focus. He's distracted by the continuous touch, it's been a long time since someone had touched him with anything but ill intent. He tries to speak, but the sound that comes out is a rough grunt. The hand in his hair retreats. 

Kylo took a few moments to blink his eyes, the room becoming clearer each time his eyes opened. They were definitely on a ship. An old, creaky looking thing. Something so old that it shouldn't be able to carry itself through space. He could tell that they'd come to a stop, or at least slowed down. 

Before he’d passed out, the ship was careening through space so recklessly it had felt like the blast shield might cave in and thrust them into the cold vortex of hyperspace. There was something familiar about this place. From what he could tell the ship was old. She’d definitely seen a lot of action.

"Where did you get the ship from?"

"I took it from Plutt's collection." She said with a smile. Her mouth looks small and mischievous. 

He moves to sit up and finds his chest lacking a shirt. Or any of the heavy clothes he'd been wearing before. The only things left were the underclothes he wore beneath his gear. All the thick leather and weapons tucked within the various folds of leather tended to poke and chafe if he didn't wear something underneath. 

When he looked at her for an answer she looked a little pink. There was a fleeting moment where he wondered whether she'd see a man's body before. But that train of thought too easily led to the path of jealousy. Jealousy was a poisonous emotion that sabotaged any logical thought and often tainted success. 

She was looking at him like he was some particularly rare piece of machinery that she could sell off for a high price. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not until she leaned closer to inspect him. Fingers poised over his skin like she was worried she might damage him if she wasn’t careful. Like he was something precious. 

“You said you would give me anything I desire.” He said quietly. There was a part of him that was almost afraid to start this conversation.

“Yes.” She said.

“What if I want something you couldn’t possibly give me?”

“Like what? If it’s an unspeakable amount of money I’m sure the rebellion will cobble together enough to satisfy you for the return of their friend.”

Kylo chuckled, shifting himself to lean back against the stiff headboard that was loosely attached to the bed. “That’s not what I had in mind.” He turned his eyes away from her. Based on the way things had been going it would do him no good to let his mind wander down the path of desires and dreams. That line of thought sent many men to hell as a result of their pursuits. 

A silence settled over them. 

A silence that not even the droid interrupts. Kylo hadn’t seen it, but he was certain it was nearby.

“What is it that you want?”

Irritation tinged her voice. It sparked something in him. Something in the dark part of himself that had brought him on this path in the first place.

“You need to stop asking me that.”

The air, despite being regulated by the ship, felt heavy. Like a pair of hands pushing down on him, holding him down before something painful happened. 

“Why?”

“Because you shouldn’t make offers you can’t carry out. It will only get you into trouble.” 

He felt her hand touch his arm.

Sighing, he looked at her, trying to convey his frustration through his eyes and posture.  Every time he tried to speak it felt as if his words fell on deaf ears. Or at least ears that had very selective hearing. 

“What if I can give you what you want?”

“It’s not that simple.”

She started leaning toward him. As she got closer, with her mouth pursed and curiosity shining in her eyes, he felt his entire body tense. This was a tricky situation. Logic tried to find footing, but her hand kept moving. Sliding up his arm. The warmth from her touch spread up and over and onto his chest. 

“Rey--”

She moved slowly, cautiously, moving like a panther moves through the brush before it pounces. The moment to deny her was quickly passing. Sailing right past his inhibitions and logic. If he intended to speak with her reasonably he couldn’t let her get on top of him. At least, that was the plan.

Then her knees settled on the outside of his hips, and his mind blanked. She sat up with her hands pressed to his chest, keeping her balance, she lowered her face till it was an inch from his. 

“What are you scared of?” 

Among other things, he’s scared of losing himself in this woman. Detangling himself from her was no easy task. There was much protesting and pouting on her part. Clearly, she had no problem offering herself to him if she thought it would get her what she wanted.

He’d underestimated her. Kylo would have to be careful not to make the same mistake twice. Abruptly sitting up shifted her down more firmly onto his lap. The shift and sudden movement had her holding onto his shoulders to keep from tumbling back. Kylo’s hands itched to run along her back, to pull her into him, strip her and ravish her until she sobbed.

“Now isn’t the time for this.”  He said sternly, hoping to dissuade her. 

Rey is something of a mynx. She’s lithe and worldly despite the fact that she’s been living under the thumb of a cankerous beast. She’s clearly going to be a great deal of trouble. And she’s likely to be the death of him one day.

On his lap, she shifts, moving her legs to wrap more securely around his back. One of the hands-on his shoulders slides down, slipping to trace meaningless patterns on his chest. 

**Author's Note:**

> Though Kylo first sees Rey as a child I just want to clarify that he isnt attracted to her as a child. Just in case that wasn't clear I thought I'd add that.


End file.
